Jump City
by Ryzi
Summary: Jump City. An Italy x Reader based in an AU where parkour is famous and widely known, dreamers can reach their goals, and stardom is just a video away.
1. Prolouge

From Dystopia to Utopia

The wind swept through your hair as you ran, building up the momentum to launch yourself to the next roof. You planted a solid footing on the ledge and you soared across the span, a few stories above the alleyway. The rush of excitement fueled your energy to keep moving, you never stopped once; vaulting over ducts and barriers, leaping from wall to wall, climbing up pipes and rails. It was all so exhilarating. You launched your weight over your last obstacle, feeling that sensation of weightlessness as you plummeted down, and right before you hit the concrete at a speed that would have broken your legs, you curled at just the right time to roll out that momentum unharmed. To the world this was Parkour, to you, it was freedom.

"Allllrighty (name)!" Your friend Matthias laughed as he pulled the camera away from his face, "I think you just earned a place in the Jump City Free-runner Competition!"

"Aw thanks." You smiled, taking a drink from your water bottle.

Being accepted into the Jump City Free-runner Competition -or JCFC as it was commonly referred to- was every free-runner's dream. It was where dreams became reality. But what was all this hype about? You remember asking yourself this question when you first heard about the competition.

Rorakup-more commonly known as Jump City now-was an abandoned town in the middle of nowhere. Why it was abandoned is still a mystery, but that's for another day. What matters is that seven years ago some man, woman, whoever with a dream stumbled upon this broken town and built it back up from scratch, but about half way through the reconstruction the funds ran out, leaving unfinished buildings and abandoned equipment. To any normal person this project was a waste, but not to that dreamer. That's how the Rorakup Run began, with their friends in high places advertising the Run, and thousands of willing people paying the admission to run, jump, and swing through the site in the most creative way possible raised more than enough money to finish the city. However, after the run was over all those participants demanded that the construction go elsewhere and leave what became a free-runner's dream. The Rorakup Run soon evolved into the JCFC and while the construction in that area stopped, the expansion and revival of that dreamer's dream resumed, creating modern-day Rorakup, "The self sustaining city".

Just thinking about it made you giggle. Only the best of the best, the strongest of the strong were privileged to reside there. If you were chosen as a contestant you were granted an all-expenses paid "vacation" to the city where you would live there for the two weeks of the competition, and if you won? Well that would be a dream come true! You would win the $500,000 grand prize, a year sponsorship with Spero -some famous, not to mention pricy, clothing company-, and new to this year a contract with _The Defiants_. Who were The Defiants? None other than one of the most well known parkour troupes out there. You sighed dreamily as your mind wandered. You wanted this so bad. You could quit your dull job working in one of those infomercial tele-centers where the only thing you did was take down the endless slue of order and credit card numbers.

"Hey! (name)!" Matthias called you back to reality, "Let's get this up on the submission page, like, now!"

"R-right!" You answered making your way over to him.

The two of you headed back to your cramped apartment with its half-assed excuse for a kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. You plugged the camera up to your laptop, chose which clips looked the most stunning, and compiled them into a 3 minute video of you leaping across the rise of the city. Now it was only a matter of time before the results came back.

After your friend left, you had a hell of a time trying to fall asleep, with all the anxiety rushing around in your thoughts, you lie in bed wide awake, for what felt like hours until you finally shut your eyes.


	2. Chapter 1

Dreams Do Come True

"OH MY MOTHER FRACKIN' GOD ALMIGHTY!" You practically leaped out of your skin when you checked the submission page a week later for the chosen contestants. Lo and behold there was your name on the list. You squealed loudly and hopped around your room in excitement as you tried to release all that pent up happiness that was overflowing. You had to celebrate, and what better way than a victory run around the city rise. You pulled on your signature pair of reflective-silver pants, laced up your running shoes, tugged your loose black and white icicle print tee over your torso, and tightened your name-brand Spero grip-gloves so that the callouses on your palms wouldn't be as bad this time around. After double checking then triple checking your clothing for any possible endangerment-such as ripped fabric, or untied laces-you headed out the door and scaled the building to the rooftop. You inhaled deeply and stared out at the morning light of the waking city. You stretched a few repetitions to prepare for your adventure then broke into a dash that lead you to launch your weight to the next roof, then the next, and the next. You sprung out in a cat-like fashion and scaled the pipes that jutted out of the side of the city's hotel and rushed to the top, doing a handstand and flipping onto the roof. You laughed and hollered in excitement as you vaulted over air ducts and rolled under roof-top billboards.

Your phone sent out a shrill ring that stopped you dead in your tracks. You checked the screen an scoffed. Your calendar reminded you that you had work in half an hour. A slew of soft curses escaped your lips as you headed back home to change into your work-issue red polo and khakis. You packed your "running clothes" into a duffel bag, pulled out your bus pass and walked to the bus stop a block down the road. It was times like this you wished you had decided a better hobby than endangering your life by hopping from roof to roof like some cut-rate thief and occasionally being chased by the police for trespassing. Your parents weren't exactly proud of you when you told them you were going to be a famous free-runner, in fact they had kicked you out for such an outrageous dream. The sound of the bus' brakes screeching brought you back to reality. You boarded and found your typical seat in the back.

"Please don't make this something I'll regret..." You whispered to yourself as the bus drove off. Once again your mind wandered off to thinking about your choices. You had been kicked out after dropping out of college once you got your "general business" degree, but even that wouldn't sustain you forever. Companies now-a-days wanted degrees in the sciences, medicine, and all that other fancy-schmancy stuff that would have you trapped inside the corporate system of corruption. You wanted freedom, but you sure as hell didn't have it right now. But you would, you had to, you put too much into following your dream to back off now.

"Stop 3, Nemoy Inc." the automated voice chimed, declaring your stop. You exited the transit vehicle and headed inside the large building. Nemoy Inc. was the central hub to producing and selling the average "as seen on TV" product. From fans to jewelry to "miracle" creams and anything else that could be bought, Nemoy Inc produced it. You were in the very under workings, answering phones in a small cubicle, taking down credit card numbers and order numbers. You settled in your cramped office space and placed the standard-issue head-set over your ears ready to start your eight-hour job.

After enduring eight hours of non-stop numbers-and spending your entire lunch break explaining to your boss why you needed to take a two week vacation-you were finally able to clock out and head home. You dragged your duffel into the employee restroom and into a stall, before changing into your running clothes you phone went off. You checked to see that Matthias had messaged you.

"**oh my god (name) I can't believe you made it into the competition!**" He sent.

"**I know! I'll meet you at the bar so we can celebrate!**" You replied.

"**Which one? Mine?**" You laughed a little at his question. Matthias owned a small bar named "The Prince of Denmark", you weren't quite sure why he named it that, apparently one of his ancestors was Danish royalty.

"**Of course! See you there!**" You changed into your clothes and packed away your other garments and headed out onto the streets.

With a deep breath you bolted off down the sidewalk, dodging civilians, hopping alleyway fences, leaping from ledge to ledge, sliding down rails, and slipping over parked cars. Even after a long boring day at work, exercising your skills as you traveled made your mood lift tenfold. The sensation of the warm city air flying past you was exhilarating, sending chills down your spine. You could see the awning and neon sign of your friend's bar come into view, only making you pick up speed as you built up for your finale. With a rush of adrenaline you launched yourself up and onto the bridge overpass that ran just in front of the bar. You scaled the concrete quickly before losing all that momentum and clutched the steel frame before swinging and performing a back-flip over the rush-hour traffic and grabbing hold of another beam. You smiled in triumph, making your way down to the other side of the overpass and ultimately in front of the bar.

You walked in with a wide smile, your mood finally restored. Matthias was drying some glasses before spotting you and waving. You took a seat at the island bar and looked around the room. Usually at this time the bar was flooded with customers, but there was no one there.

"Where is everyone?" You asked.

"I closed early to celebrate!" The Dane laughed putting away the glass and leaning over the counter.

The two of you spent the next few hours doing what best friends do best, party it up with only the two of you. The night passed quickly and you soon had to head home.

"So, why don't you just run to work?" Matthias asked.

"I've explained this a million times. My work is an hour away if I run, and I'd be all sweaty by the time I got there. There's this thing called "hygiene" Matt, remember?" You explained. He just scratched the back of his head and chuckled. The two of you reached your apartment by midnight, as soon as you walked in the door you rushed to your room and began digging out clothes for your trip, Matthias helping you pack up everything. This was it, you couldn't believe it, tomorrow you would be on your way to the Jump City Free-runner Competition and perhaps, stardom.

You zipped up several bags of clothing, your laptop, chargers, batteries, toiletries, and anything else that deemed necessary. Once again you were so excited you couldn't sleep, but that was alright since you needed to catch the bus to the airport in about two hours. Matthias volunteered to go with you to the airport because as he explained to you "There's tons of creeps out there and you have too much to carry." He really was a great friend. Those two hours flew by as you made sure you packed everything, had Matthias help calm your nerves, and double check everything was in order. Soon it was time to head out. The two of you were on your way to the airport now, the bus was eerily quiet save for the Dane's constant whispering of the previous day's events and laughing every so often which seemed to anger the driver greatly. Though once you reached the airport security check it was time for you to part ways. You hugged and said your goodbyes.

"Kick some ass out there (name)" Your friend cheered as you passed the gate and headed to the terminal.

"I WILL!" You laughed back.

You sat in your seat and watched out the window as the plane took off, the city below you soon disappearing. You closed your eyes and listened to the monotonous hum of the turbines.

"_This is it._" You thought "_Jump city here I come._"


	3. Chapter 2

Day 0: Arrival

"Excuse me miss." The stewardess said quietly, tapping your shoulder, waking you from a pleasant dream. You yawned a little and blinked a few times, adjusting to the light of the airborne cabin, "We will be landing shortly."

"A-ah okay." You yawned with a nod.

The plane slowly descended through the atmosphere, making your ears pop several times. Your hands began to shake in anticipation as you drew closer to your destination. Your breath hitched in your throat in anxiety; so many amazing free-runners were to gather here and compete for the ultimate prize. There was a loud thud as the wheels emerged from the bottom of the aircraft. The plane skidded to a slow roll across the tar-mat and finally to the looked outside at the sky-rise of the city, it was even more beautiful than television had shown. Silhouettes of the purposefully unfinished buildings created a beautiful labyrinth of beams, pipes, and ducts.

You scurried off the plane with your carry-on cargo and hurriedly rushed to the baggage claim, hoping you would find what was yours in the mass of luggage. You maneuvered through the hordes of other passengers only to stumble upon a young man who seemed more than lost. His amber eyes flickered with worry as they darted around frantically, he would occasionally pace around in a circle and groan a little in frustration. Feeling a little sorry for him, you approached the lost man and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Excuse me? Sir? Are you lost?" You asked readjusting the bag on your shoulder.

"Oh! Ah...Um..." He bit his lip in conflict, then hung his head, "Heh...yeah ah...I'ma lost." You could tell by his accent that he must be Italian.

"Well, who are you looking for?"

"Oh! Well, my two friends got separated from me and...ah...I don't know where they could be...and..." His voice trailed off worriedly.

"Can't you just...call them?"

The Italian's eyes widened as he bopped his forehead with his palm.

"Oh right! I forgot to try that!" He laughed and took out his phone then proceeded to dial a number and begin talking.

While he chatted away you took the chance to observe him better, his face seemed oddly familiar to some one else. Perhaps some T.V. star? His hair was a red-ish brunette colour with a stubborn cowlick that stuck out the side. He was of an average build for a guy, probably around 20 you guessed. As he spoke he would occasionally flail his hands or let out a laugh that almost seemed contagious, but eventually he hung up and looked back at you.

"My friends are ah...at the baggage claim!" The cheerful Italian smiled.

"Oh well I'm heading there too." You chuckled in a slight nervousness, "We can uh..." Your voice began to trail off, and that baffled you. You were never one to stumble over your words.

"Yeah! Let's go together!" He grabbed you by the hand and began to lead you in the wrong direction before quickly turning around and heading the correct way.

The more you walked, the more your feet felt like lead, every second feeling like an hour. You kept focus on the Italian leading you, trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.

After passing several security checks, miscellaneous shops, and a vending machine or two, the both of you were at the baggage claim, jam-packed with luggage.

"God damn it Feliciano!" a loud German-sounding voice shouted, followed by a tower of a man carrying several suitcases stormed up to the Italian.

Feliciano yelped and scratched the back of his head, "A...aah sorry Ludwig...I got distracted...and then...I met this nice girl!" He motioned to you, "And ah...now we're here!"

The German just sighed and handed two duffel-bags to his Italian friend then turned to you.

"We apologize for you having to put up with Feliciano." He apologized. A shorter Asian-looking man stood beside him and bowed.

"Oh um...it's really no problem, I was headed over here too." You looked at the multiple conveyor belts, spotting your over-packed duffel-bag moving to the last set of belts before being dumped into that hell-hole of overflow baggage. You bolted past the small group and dove to grab your bag before it passed the curtain.

"Oh that was close." You mumbled to yourself, pulling the bag to your side. You unzipped the bag to find everything was still in order.

The bus ride to the hotel was cramped and overflowing with the possessions of all the other contestants. You scanned the cabin to size up the competition. Most of the others seemed just as nervous and excited as you, which was comforting in an odd sense. A few looked as confident as ever with their bags covered in stickers from previous competitions. You sighed and stared out the window at the passing scenery, the underdeveloped structures left an endless playground where you could see the silhouettes of a few free-runners bounding off beams in perfect synch, reminding you that in two days you would be doing the exact same thing.

A/N time!

..I forgot "Jump City" was a place in TeenTitans.  
And baggage overflow is hell. Too many people, not enough space. thats why we pack as much as possible into our carry-on.

CQotC : If you had to go by some secret identity, what would it be?  
CQotC2: Which one of these Alias' should reader-tan go by? "Blizzard" "IceStorm"  
"The Baskilisk" or can you think of another?  
CQotC3: Any Alias you think should be used in this series? (put the country and the alias in the comment)  
...so when thinking up alias' I thought of "the Flying Potato"...


	4. Chapter 3

Day 1, Morning Orientation

You held your aching head in annoyance, it hadn't even been five minutes on the ride to the hotel and there was already some kind of rivalry brewing between two contestants. The first was a man with dusty blonde hair and bright blue eyes that gleamed behind his glasses as he laughed confidently in the face of his new enemy. The "enemy" in question was a tall and lean-muscled albino with piercing red eyes, he hissed a laugh as he pushed the blonde roughly wanting to pick a fight. The two began hollering insults at one another, each one more vulgar than the last. The other riders shot disapproving glances at the new-found rivals as their arguing became louder and louder. Your eye twitched in irritation as you gripped your temples and hung your head, hoping to drown out the madness. Just before you thought things couldn't get any more obnoxious, the contestant next to you flopped his head over onto your shoulder, snoring loudly. Seriously, how could anyone sleep through this ruckus?

Then suddenly, silence. The whole bus was hushed in an instant. Even the snoring man next to you fell quiet. You raised your eyes to see a tower of a man smiling childishly as he tightly gripped the two aggravated men by the shoulders, emitting a menacing aura around him.

"How about we stop the fighting, da?" He said so calmly, his accent giving away he was Russian, "It would be a shame for you both to lose your voices so early on in the game." The way he ended that phrase almost sounded...threatening.

" 'Ey! Back off lard-ass!" The blonde, whom you assumed to be American from his mannerisms, sneered as he shoved the Russian's hand off of him.

As for the albino, he took a nearby seat, snickering to himself as if waiting for his rival to be pounded in the face. You raised your head back up to take one last look at the contestants before the bus reached your stop. The snoring man next to you appeared to be of Mediterranean descent from the look of his tan-olive skin. Next to the Albino sat a ginger wearing a pair of Scottish Plaid pants. He was hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees as he pulled a cigarette from the carton in his coat pocket, but just before he could take out his lighter a voice buzzed over the intercom.

"Would the red-head in seat E-4 please put away the cigarette and lighter? This is a smoke free environment. Thank you."

The plaid wearing man grumbled to himself before tucking away the cigarette and sighed.

"Oh ho ho ho boy! Man! You got busteeeed!" The loud American laughed obnoxiously, "But that's what'cha get wh-OH SHIT!" He screamed as the bus driver purposely slammed on the breaks as he parked in front of the hotel you were to be staying in. As soon as the doors opened, you grabbed your bags and rushed outside.

You stared in awe for a moment then entered the high-class hotel. It was even more beautiful in person. The floors were polished to the point where it looked as if you were walking on a mirror, an ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling, the furniture was so ornate you could hardly bring yourself to sit down. As you looked wide-eyed around the lobby, all sense of reality was washed away. The commotion of the other contestants became a dull roar as you zoned out into your own fantasy.

"It's pretty amazing isn't it?" A familiar Italian voice chimed happily, snapping you back to the bustling lobby.

"Oh! Um...Yeah, guess it is." You turned to see Feliciano smiling cheerfully back at you. Before you could respond, a bright light flashed and blinded you temporarily, instinctively drawing your gaze to the source. You ended up focusing your (colour) eyes on the reflective strips of fabric that trailed down the Italian's running pants, each one in the shape of a lightning bolt. Slowly the cogs in your head began to click and turn, putting together the puzzle of why he looked so damn familiar. You scrunched your nose and hazily kept staring at the lightning-printed pants as you thought.

"A-ah...E-excuse me...Miss pretty lady?" Feliciano's voice asked nervously, "Why are you staring at my pants?"

"AHA!" You pointed your finger at him and met his gaze, "NOW I GOT IT!" Your loud and confident volume caught the attention of the majority of the others in the lobby.

"G-got what?"

"YOU'RE _HIM_! YOU'RE WHITE LIGHTNING!" You smiled and laughed.

White Lightning was part of the famous trio "The Defiants", along with Shinobi and Blitzkrieg, the three runners were the celebrities-no _gods_-of the Parkour world, and for you to even see one of them was and honour in its own. Before you could get another word out, a wave of fans and contestants swarmed the Italian, forcing you off and away conveniently to the front desk. You sighed softly as you watched Feliciano be bombarded with papers for autographs, grabbed at by multiple hands, and even one overzealous fan had the courage to try and lick him, but you turned back to the desk, assuming he had to deal with that every day.

The secretary at the front desk slid a small packet of forms for you to fill out with spots for you to record all the necessary information. You made quick work of all the spaces until you reached the last one.

_Alias_.

You smiled to yourself and stared at the blank line. Having an alias as a free-runner was like a secret identity, it was your second life away from all the stress of the world, and it wasn't until recently you had actually come up with that "second life" you dreamed of leading.

_Blizzard._

You scribed the name across the line before turning in the packet and receiving your room key. The secretary smiled and bid you farewell with an "Enjoy your stay", you smiled and quickly strode to the elevators, riding up to your floor. The bell chimed and the doors opened. You began wandering down the hall, searching for your room. Other contestants and clients roamed about, holding idle conversations as you pushed yourself past them to your room. The numbers 502 labeled the door, the same numbers that matched the tag of your key. Upon entering you were once again awestruck. Your suit was thrice as big as your apartment back home! The bedroom was humongous with a king sized bed and flat screen, the living area was connected to the fully equipped kitchen, and the bathroom had a nice jacuzzi tub and a shower big enough for three people. Why you would need a shower that big was beyond you, but nevertheless, it was awesome. You dropped your duffel-bags, ran, and belly-flopped on you new bed, bouncing up and down a few times before settling. Almost instantly you fell asleep from the cozy down comforter.

_It was a few days before the announcement of the chosen contestants for the contest, you and Matthias were lounging about in your apartment discussing possible alias' for you to take on. _

"_What about 'Whirlwind'?" Your danish friend suggested, "I mean, you like to do all those rolls and flips, so it'd sound kind of cool!"_

_You took that down as a mental note. Whirlwind, it definitely had a ring to it. But, you wanted something, deeper. _

_"Matthias, remember when we met? How did you feel when I showed you my routine?" You asked._

"_Frozen. It was like a sub-zero blizzard hit me."_

_"That's it then!" You exclaimed._

_"What? Sub-Zero?"_

_"No, Blizzard. When people see me up there they'll freeze and stare." _

_"Blizzard...has a nice-_

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

You shot up from your slumber, sputtering a few times before frantically reaching for the room phone. You slammed your hand down on the phone and brought it up to your ear.

"Hello?" You tried not to yawn.

"Is this Blizzard?" A voice on the other side asked.

"This is her, can I help you?"

"There will be an orientation meeting in ten minutes, please head down to conference room three in your competition clothes."

"Alright." You hung up.

You sprung off the bed to your smaller duffel-bag, unzipping it and pulling out the clothing inside. Now on the floor lay the outfit you had designed yourself, it consisted of a light weight hooded jacket, a t-shirt, your "lucky" worn-out finger gloves, cargo pants, and sneakers. The jacket was a navy-blue with a snow-flake print on the hood, the shoulders were almost a white frost-like pattern that faded as it reached the bottom of the jacket. Both the t-shirt and cargo pants were black with reflective icicles that "hung" around the neck, waistband, and pockets so that you could be identified if there were to be a night-running course. The pair of gloves you had were from when you first decided to devote your life to parkour, you had made them from a pair of batting gloves you had found at a second-hand sports store then cut off half the fingers. Lat but not least you had made small "snow dots" on your shoes from the left over reflective material to try and tie the motif all together. Sure it was a little mismatched_, _but you were proud of it, and that's all that mattered.

You quickly dressed and dashed to the designated room to officially meet your competitors and start this competition. Inside the conference room sat 15 people, a handful you recognized from the bus ride over. They all chatted and bragged to each other, sharing their adventures, others plotting against new-found rivals, the all around aura of competitiveness filled the room like a fog. You found a seat in an unoccupied chair next to a man with long wavy blonde hair and blue eyes whom was talking with the girl next to him. The girl in question had blue eyes as well but brown braided hair, she looked a little displeased as she listened to the man speak. You continued to scan the room, until a loud voice caught your attention.

"Alllllright! Let's get this orientation started!" A voice from the front of the room called, this time you instantly recognized the figure in front of the room, it was none other than The Gladiator. Dressed in his trademark Roman-print jumpsuit and gauntlets, The Gladiator was famous for starting up the famous Defiants, "I'm just here to give you a quick welcome and the rules to the competition. If you haven't heard of me, which I seriously doubt, I am The Gladiator and I welcome you to this year's Jump City Free-Runner Competition! We were looking for the best runners in the world and here you are now. But don't get cocky now, we've hardly just begun. Now, for those boring things called rules, and just a little heads up, if you break any of these rules, you will be disqualified. Okay! Rule one! No sabotage, do NOT destroy anyone's gear, do NOT push people off ledges, no poisoning food, etc. Rule two! You are to refer to yourself by your alias, and ONLY your alias. Rule three! This competition is a great opportunity to display your talent for agencies, so remember, always look your best! The world is watching. Rule four! You are only allowed outside your rooms between the hours of 6 a.m. and 11 p.m. The training course is open from noon to 8 p.m. Rule Five! Play nice! Don't wreck any of our equipment, shit's expensive. And...um...well common sense laws apply. And...that's it!" He clapped his hands together and smiled, "You will be assigned your training schedules tomorrow morning, take today to get acquainted, settled, do what you want. Just remember that all rules apply as I stated."

After that long rant you got up and stretched, ready to "officially" meet your competition.

A/N

I tried to make this chapter longer to compensate.  
SO, what do you all think so far? Should this keep going?  
I'm kind of dividing the story up into "days" and "times of day"  
Seeing as this is "morning" the next one should be "afternoon/evening"  
Um...So. Thank you to ~RedDeathHots for the names on Italy and Japan.  
Sorry for not using Whirlwind, I may use it for someone else though.

Halp. I cant think of aliases.


	5. Chapter 4

Day 1, Afternoon Orientation and a Slice of White Lightning

You watched as a few contestants filed out of the room to do...well whatever they were going to do, you frankly did not care really, all that was on your mind was catching up on that lack of sleep you had accumulated from the time change and your recent shift in sleeping habits. You yawned loudly and stretched out your arms before getting up from your seat, ready to head back up to your suite when...

"WOAH! Total babe alert goin' on here!" That really obnoxious American contestant declared rather loudly before approaching you.

"Please, go away..." You somewhat sneered, wanting to get away from the rude man.

"So they call me The Eagle around here, pretty cool name yeah? Gave it to myself 'cause I'm just that cool." He rambled, obviously he hadn't heard you.

"Excuse me!" You rose your voice and caught his attention, "I would _like_ to get _back_ to my suite!" You sassed. You always hated rude people, the world was overflowing with them and their constant annoyances. The Eagle looked at you with wide eyes in sheer shock, you kept a firm gaze to make sure he would remember who he was up against. His outfit was over the top, gaudy even, a pair of leather goggles sat atop his head, his tight muscle shirt had a faded "stars and stripes" pattern on it, his pants continued the excessive flag motif but brighter and just as obnoxious as his attitude. A closer look revealed that this was all custom-made Spero issued running gear, he must have been rich to have that high-quality of equipment.

After your little stare down you pushed your way past him, hoping no one else would come between you and your date with that comfy mattress.

"Hey! You with the snowflakes!" Another voice called out to you, stopping you once again. You really could have kept walking, but that would have been rude, and you'd rather not become hypocritical.

"Yes?" You turned around to meet the other nuisance from the bus. His gear was that of a regular tee-shirt and cargo pants with a stenciled design of what looked like some sort of chain mail. His forearms had leather bracers as well as his shoulders and back. It almost looked like some sort of pseudo-armor.

"Congratulations on making it to the competition, we don't see many girl runners at this stage of the game." He smiled and hissed out a strange laugh.

"Right, well...I'm honoured to be here. Truth is I just barely made it in." You confessed with a soft chuckle.

"Well either way you got in, and I look forward to competing with you. Oh right, call me 'T.K'." He smiled wider and held out his hand which you took and gave it a firm shake.

"Blizzard." You introduced.

You watched the albino leave soon after then shifted your eyes around to make sure no one else was going to approach you, and by the looks of it, you were in the clear. You finally headed out the conference room door and out into the hall.

"_Shit..."_ You thought, "_did I come in from the right...or...was it from the left..._" You looked down the opposite ends of the hall, both looking identical in appearance, "_eeiney...meeiney...miney...left._" You mentally decided and began down the hall.

-  
You hated this. You really did, while your face didn't show it, a deep burning hatred was boiling inside. Why? Well between you and the overly ornate vase to your right, you were lost. And on you list of things you hated, right under "rude people" was "being lost", even if you had a great memory to map out where you had been, the initial shock of being so confused annoyed you. But you pressed on, how long had it been now? 30...40 minutes? An hour? Yes that was it. An hour of wandering aimlessly through the halls. And what better was it to pass this time then to conveniently run into some other contestants.

There was Aegean, whom you recognized as the man who had fallen asleep on you, and you were pretty sure he had slept through the meeting. His gear was pretty basic with it being just normal clothing, but his hoodie is what caught your attention since it had cat-like ears and paws on it.

The next person you had ran into-no correction, _people-_were Sirventes and Sunca. Sirventes wore a bright blue poncho with a rose on the back that matched his equally vibrant red pants, he smiled and had tried to flirt with you in the most obvious of manners, but Sunca -whom you guessed to be his sister or some sort of relative-stopped him and sternly scolded him, her blue-violet eyes pierced through her partial-veil head-piece.

The last contestant you had met on you little adventure was the rather tall man from the bus who had broken up the fight between the Eagle and T.K. He politely introduced himself as "Koschei" and wrapped his light pink scarf around his neck.

-

"Are...you...shitting me?" You exhaled, wandering out onto the balcony of the twelfth floor, you knew your room number, it was on your key, and you had no trouble finding it the first time, "All I asked was to go back to my room. Room 502, that must mean the fifth floor. Are any of the stairwell's marked? Nope. Escalators? Nada, all blocked off for fucking repairs. Directories? What directories? Ha!" You raved and looked over the rails, trying to cool your temper by looking out at the city.

It really was like a dream come true, you weren't sure if you could get over it. You sighed happily, sure being rather lost was bothering you, but a little less now.

"OW!" You exhaled sharply as a few stray ashes fell from the balcony above and onto your hand.

"Sorry miss!" A Scottish-accent apologized.

THUNK! A pair of feet landed on the rail in front of you followed by a ginger smiling at you with a cigarette hanging from his lips, nothing seemed rather unique about him except his wolf-eared hat and moon print shirt.

"Just makin' my way down." He laughed and swung himself down another level, leaving the smell of tobacco behind.

You sighed and continued your gaze out to the city, mentally mapping what you could see. Ah yes. Supermarket a few blocks away, shopping mall about two miles away, and a pair of amber eyes staring you in the face. Wait...what?

"AUGH!" You exclaimed, jumping back to see Feliciano perched on the rail with his usual oblivious smile. He leaned over and began to balance his weight, cautiously raising his legs up and over his head, maintaining perfect balance. He then proceeded to hand-over-hand turn himself around until he was facing you once more, his expression now extremely focused yet still calm and collected. You could only stare in awe, just a moment ago he was smiling and looking foolish and now he looked the exact opposite. This was the real White Lightning, this is what having an alias meant. Feliciano bent his arms until his head almost touched the rail then with all his weight he launched himself up and over, landing in front of you.

"Hiya Miss Pretty Lady!" He flashed his oblivious smile once more and waved.

"Um. Blizzard." You corrected.

"Right! Are you lost? Because ah...I heard you kind of ah...yelling...kinda like Lu-I mean ah...Blitzkrieg does when I'm late to practice."

You hung your head and sighed, "Um...yeah...room 502"

"Oh! Ohkay!" The Italian laughed cheerfully and took you by the hand, leading you down halls and stairs, past the endless amount of doors, and finally to room 502. You unlocked the door to see the room was still intact, not like it wouldn't be.

"Thanks again Lightning." You smiled.

"Oh! Right! Congratulations on making the competition!" He smiled and leaned closer to you giggling all the while before planting a soft kiss on your cheek and taking off down the hall, his reflective pants making it really look like a bolt of lightning charged by. A confused hand made its way up to your heated cheek and you looked around baffled.

"_What kind of congratulation was that?!_" You mentally asked before heading into your suite to catch up on that lack of sleep that still had you exhausted.

A/N time!

Okay, so woop woop chapter 4 is here guys. Sorry for that long disappearance, I was busy, life had been getting over stressful and all that fun jazz. I hope you enjoy and feel free to review, I love hearing what you all think of the story. :3


	6. Chapter 5

Day 2, Morning - Team Building and Trust Falls

"AND...DROP! ONE...TWO...THREE...F-NOSE TO THE GROUND OVER THERE! FOUR...FIVE..." Blitzkrieg ordered as you and four other contestants achingly started your twentieth round of push-ups.

"This...is all your fault Eagle..." You hissed an exhausted threat at the blond in question who also looked just, if not more, tired than everyone else.

"FORTY-EIGHT...FORTY-NINE...FIFTY." Everyone dropped to the cool grass and breathed a sigh of relief, "Alright, stretch for ten minutes, but if I catch you goofing off again, fifty more push-ups, or perhaps one hundred." The German focused his attention to the American whom slightly shrunk away. You found a nice spot out in the sun and began stretching out your legs.

-Flash back to One Hour ago-

"Alright everyone." The Gladiator yawned before pointing to a chart that was projected onto the wall behind him, "Today starts your official training. You have been randomly assigned to one of the three Defiants here to begin honing your skills for the competition." He motioned to the Italian, German, and Asian standing next to him. You looked up at the chart to see who you had been assigned to. You felt your heart drop a little when you saw you weren't in Feliciano's group, but were with his German friend instead, along with the Eagle and T.K. and a few miscellaneous contestants. You felt a presence behind you, making you turn around and reveal it was T.K. the rather friendly albino.

"Hey, we're on the same team. I hope we do well." He smirked and patted your head before departing.

"Woah! Looks like we get to spend all week together babe!" The Eagle laughed and lightly punched your shoulder. You groaned and dismissed yourself from the room to mentally prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

-now-

You really couldn't have asked for a better day to train. It wasn't too hot, or too cold, there was no wind, nor a cloud in sight. You stretched your legs as far out in a split-like stance, feeling your muscles tighten then contract as you rose back up. You reached to the right, then the left, hoping to lessen the aching of your arms from all the push-ups.

"Alright everyone gather around." Blitzkrieg called after the ten minute break, "This 'training' isn't your run-of-the-mill session. You all already know how to perform with amazing skill and style, otherwise you wouldn't be here. But this year we're taking things to the extreme. This means extreme performance conditions. We're going to have a rain course, a night course, times when we'll make you stop on a dime, or even elude our sights."

"_The hell is this? We aren't some special ops squad..._" You criticized mentally.

"So to start off our training. Let's just see how well you can adapt to something new. Since none of you know this place, you're going to have to think on the spot and quickly calculate everything as it's happening." The German handed everyone a different colour card, "Around this area are flags to mark your designated colour path."

You did as ordered, looking at your blue card to find the corresponding flag. It was placed in front of a small sculpture. From there you could see a trail of similar flags marking out the route for you to follow.

A small buzzing noise resonated from behind you then zoomed into your field of vision. It was a heli-cam, just as the name suggested, it was a small airborne camera that was commonly used to film those out on runs. While you didn't really know how the device worked, you were pretty sure it could be programmed to follow a certain object of a certain colour. The heli-cam floated around you, sounding out small blips and clicks. You clipped the blue card to your jacket zipper and waited for a signal to start your run.

_BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!_

The obnoxious buzzer startled you into a sprint towards the next flag that was perched on top of the first of a series of light only had a few seconds left to calculate when and how to reach the flag. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a bench a few inches from the light post. You changed direction to the bench and used it as an extra step to launch yourself up to the light post and next to the flag. A small click from the heli-cam as it took a picture of the flag broke your concentration for just a moment, throwing off your momentum as you let go to swing to the next post. You panicked for a second as you reached for the next post, missing it barely and falling to the ground. With your reflexes kicking in, you twisted your body around so that in one fluid motion you had dove to the grass, rolled out, and resumed running.

This time the flag was attached to a low-rise wall. "_Easy enough._" You thought as you approached the wall, running up and over it, the camera taking another snapshot to mark your progress. After leaping off the small ledge you darted your eyes around, looking for any other obstacles, scanning your surroundings. With a simple blink, your mind began processing a layout of the area from your current run, and from what you had seen from the balcony yesterday. Your (colour) eyes flickered open once more, refocusing to the task at hand. A smirk graced your lips in confidence. You landed flat on your feet and sprung back up, flipping with ease through the air and landing once more.

Your next destination, from what you could see, was on the awning of a building across the street. "_Gotta get up higher..._" You processed, as your eyes trailed the traffic zooming just yards away. A small news stand was directly in front of you, not high enough to provide you with the leverage to get across the street, but a good enough start. Once again you sprung up, pulling your weight to the top of the stand. A large shadow cast overhead caught your attention. The hook of a crane was slowly swinging above you. With a vertical leap you grabbed the hook and swung hard, arching your back as you let go, flying over the cars zooming by. This time you were able to clutch the awning, _CLICK_, another checkpoint. You dismounted onto the sidewalk, looking around, noticing several other flags in the general vicinity, each one a different colour. Within the next few seconds the other contestants in your group began arriving in their own styles, looking around equally as confused as you were.

_Tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!_

Everyone looked up to see Blitzkrieg standing atop of an unfinished skyscraper, holding the last of everyone's flags. You leaped back up to the awning, then to the beams of the towering structure. The other contestants followed sooth, each one scaling the girders higher and higher towards the German. As you climbed, you could feel the air around you become colder and colder. Then, an unexpected weight disrupted your rhythm. You looked down to see one of the contestants clinging to your leg for dear life, she must have miscalculated a jump somewhere along the lines.

"HOLD ON A LITTLE LONGER OKAY?" You called out to her and she nodded in response. You scanned the surrounding beams then spotted one no more than two feet away, "OKAY, I'M GOING TO SWING SO YOU CAN REACH THAT BEAM IN FRONT OF US! CAN YOU DO THAT?"

The girl nodded again, lowering herself so that she was now holding your ankles. You took a deep breath, you couldn't mess this up, both of your lives were on the line now. You could feel the eyes of everyone else staring as they dare not move or make a noise that could break concentration. You tensed the muscles of your arms and back, preparing yourself. With a soft grunt you slowly heaved your weight back as the contestant did the same, providing more momentum. After a few swings back and forth, the girl released her grip and soared to the beam, latching quickly and hoisting herself up. You exhaled loudly as you did the same.

Finally you were able to reach the top and take your flag from Blitzkrieg.

"Good job everyone." He congratulated, "The practice course will be open in about...two hours, what you do with this free-time is up to you." And with that, the German made his way down the puzzle of scaffolds.

You stared at the screen in front of you, sighing as your stomach growled. You had been watching the same channel for ten minutes now. The information channel. God you were bored, and hungry, the only food you had was from breakfast four hours ago, and after such strenuous training, you were hungrier than ever. You didn't have anything in the refrigerator, since you hadn't gone shopping for food yet.

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...Foooood." You groaned loudly, flopping over on the couch, "I don't care if it's only 10 in the morning. I want fooood." You knew complaining wasn't going to do anything about your hunger, but you were too tired to actually go out and shop.

_fwump! "Ah dannazione..."_

You heard a distressed voice sigh from the hall. After a few seconds of persuading your exhausted body off the couch, you looked out the peephole in the door to see White Lightning hastily picking up groceries off the floor. You unknowingly smirked in amusement as the Italian scrambled after an orange that was now rolling down the hall. You stepped outside your room, helping him by placing the rest of the groceries in the bag and tying the handles together to prevent another accident.

"Ah! Grazie Blizzard!" He laughed, returning with the rouge fruit.

You were just about to open your mouth when your stomach seemed to voice its opinion with a loud gargling growl. You hugged your stomach and blushed in embarrassment.

"Are you hungry? I was ah...just to make myself some lunch. Would you care to join me?" He flashed a smile and picked up the bag from the floor.

"Well, I don't want to be a burde-"

"Haha! Nonsense Blizzard!" His amber eyes flickered in excitement, "The more the merrier!"

"Well then...alright, just, let me get dressed..." Your voice trailed off as you looked down at your over sized tee and sweatpants you had changed into to lounge in.

"Ah, no need to be formal, just wear that!" His voice seemed to grow hasty before his stomach softly grumbled, yours returned another growl. There was a moment of silence before the both of you let loose an uproarious laugh.

"I think the sooner we eat the better." You chuckled, opening your door to let Feliciano in, "Lets just use my kitchen so our stomachs don't have to suffer longer."

"Vee, okay." He smiled once more, heading inside.


End file.
